


Embrasse-Moi

by theshipqueen



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Exchange Student AU, Internalized Biphobia, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Multi, Queerplatonic Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-03-17 10:44:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3526340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshipqueen/pseuds/theshipqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David Washington, a French 17 year-old, signs up for an exchange student program in America and goes to live with the Church family in Chicago. As he adjusts to life in the States, he meets some interesting characters along the way. But one person particularly stands out, for reasons beyond Wash's comprehension.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Okay, we only have five more hours until he gets here,” Carolina noted, pacing the kitchen as her brother and his two idiot friends stood in front of her at attention. They could’ve resembled soldiers if they tried hard enough. “So that means we only have four hours to deep clean the entire house,” she finished.

Tucker frowned. “Hold on, wait a minute. If he gets here in five hours, why do we only have four to clean the house?”

“We just do. Don’t question me.”

He rolled his eyes and saluted her mockingly. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And lucky for you three, I’ve devised a game plan so we can get all of this done.” She flipped the paper on the easel she’d set out earlier and pointed to a surprisingly accurate map of the floor plan of the house. When Carolina planned things, she planned them right.

“I’ll tackle all of the bathrooms and the kitchen. Church, you’ll do the bedrooms on the first floor and the living room. Tucker, you have the upstairs bedrooms, deck, and stairs. Caboose…” she paused, “... you can help Church dust and pick up after the neighbor's dogs in their yard. We have to keep their yard tidy while they're out of town. The Hoffmans down the street are in charge of feeding them, so there's no need to worry about that.”

The boys nodded in unison and Carolina smirked. “Wonderful. Tucker and Church, you know where all the cleaning supplies are. Caboose, Church will get you the duster and bags to clean up the yard.”

“Um, why do I need bags if I’m going to be taking care of the dogs?” Caboose asked, raising his hand.

Church groaned and rubbed his temples, pushing his glasses up to his forehead. “You’re gonna use the bags to pick up the dog shit, moron.”

Caboose nodded and smiled wide, finally understanding. Carolina made a gesture with her hands that suggested they ‘move along’, raising her eyebrows. Caboose, all gangly arms and legs, rushed to the kitchen, eager to begin his tasks. The other two reluctantly began their chores, taking their time.

Along with her cleaning duties, Carolina also had to make sure the others were actually doing their work, not just goofing off and trying to start an air freshener war like last time. However, she did that almost every day anyway, so it wasn’t too much of a hassle to keep tabs on them.

She had just started on the first bathroom next to the kitchen when Tucker poked his head in the door.

“Hey, Carolina?” he asked.

The redhead sighed and turned to him, tightening her ponytail. “Yes, Tucker?”

“Quick question,” he started, “So, why do we have to clean the entire house? It’s already pretty clean considering we cleaned it a week ago. I’m sure this guy won’t be horrifically offended if there’s one speck of dirt on the floor.”

Standing up and leaning against the counter, she groaned. “We have a foreign exchange student living with us for the rest of the year; I want to leave a good first impression. Plus, my father won’t be home until after we get him from the airport. Not that he’d help with the cleaning anyway.”

Tucker crossed his arms over his chest, slinging the rag in his hand over his shoulder. “But still. It doesn’t even look like anyone lives here when it’s clean like this! A house should look lived in. And if that means it’s a little dirty, so what? Are houses that aren’t completely spotless offensive to other cultures?”

“He’s from France; our cultures aren’t actually that different.”

“Does he even speak English?”

“Just go and finish cleaning.”

“Ha! So he doesn’t!”

“Tucker. Clean. Now,” she hissed.

Backpedaling out of the bathroom, Tucker held up his hands and didn’t make a sound. As soon as he was a safe distance away, he booked it for the stairs and continued his chores.

The four of them spent the next few hours cleaning. Carolina felt like she had to give them some kind of incentive for helping, so she ran to the nearest fast food joint and picked up lunch for all of them. When she returned, they all sat at the small table in their kitchen, or as the Director called it, the breakfast nook, and ate. Most of the cleaning at that point was finished, and there were only a few finishing touches to be made.

The clock read 4:14 when they were finally done. Carolina thanked them and Caboose walked to his house down the street. Tucker decided to stay; his little brother was at a friend’s house, so his mother was out doing God knows what. He and Church stayed back at the house and watched TV when Carolina left for the airport.

“Okay man, I’m gonna need you to not completely destroy the house while Carolina’s gone. You know how she is. So get your nasty ass feet off the coffee table and sit like a normal fucking human for once,” Church scolded.

Tucker removed his feet and slouched in his seat. “Jesus fuck, man, no need to be snappy. You sound like my mom.”

“Don’t even start. I just want to go a couple hours without Carolina screaming her head off for once, is that too much to ask?”

“I guess not,” Tucker sighed, surfing through channels. One listing in particular caught his eye. “Dude! This channel has reruns of Friends on all night. Wanna marathon it?”

Church gave his friend a blank stare. “Did you seriously just ask me that? You’ve known me since third goddamn grade. Have I ever turned down a Friends marathon?”

He selected the channel and relaxed on the couch, deeming Church’s question undeserving of the obvious response. They’d been watching the show together for as long as either could remember-- probably sometime in elementary school.

* * *

They watched the show until Carolina returned almost an hour later, arms full with luggage. She took it to the spare bedroom upstairs and the boys on the couch didn’t move.

A loud crash followed by something in a foreign language-- most likely a curse-- from the doorway to the garage startled them both, making them jump up from their seats. The exchange student must’ve dropped some of his bags. Church ran to help him and Tucker followed, stopping in the kitchen.

“Need any help?” he called.

Church grunted as he picked up the bags. “Nah, I got it.” He slung the backpack over his shoulder and dragged the suitcase behind him, following the same path as Carolina up the stairs.

Behind him, a figure walked into the room. Tucker noticed a few things about the boy right away; he was tall and slightly more muscular than average, he had scruffy blonde hair that stuck up in the front, he had two different colored eyes-- one light green and the other such a pale blue it was essentially grey, and he had freckles everywhere. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

He spoke softly with a French accent, obviously, but less of one that Tucker had initially expected. “Ah, hello, my name is David Washington. What is your name?”

Tucker grinned and shook his hand. “I’m Tucker. Lavernius Tucker, but please don’t call me by my first name.”

“I also, uh, prefer to be called by my last name. Washington,” he stated, returning the handshake.

Tucker gave him a confused look. “Your name doesn’t sound French…”

“My mother is French, but my father came from England,” Washington explained.

“Well, Washington is kind of a mouthful, mind if I call you Wash?”

Wash shook his head and smiled. “I do not mind at all, Tucker.”

Footsteps sounded from the stairs and Church and Carolina appeared in the kitchen.

“So I see you’ve already met Tucker. I do hope he hasn’t been bothering you, David,” Carolina said sharply, jabbing her elbow into Tucker’s ribcage. He winced and rubbed the irritated area, glaring at her.

“No, no, Tucker is very welcoming,” he said, smiling.

“He prefers Washington, by the way. Wash for short,” Tucker bit out.

Church stepped between them, effectively breaking up their little spat. “I’m Church. It’s nice to meet you, Wash. Me and Tucker can show you around if you want?”

Wash nodded and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “That would be very nice, thank you.”

The two of them led Wash around the first floor, showing him the kitchen, dining room, bathroom, living room, and the Director’s room. They led him up the stairs and showed him Church and Carolina’s bedrooms, the bathroom, and the room he’d be staying in.

“Carolina’s gonna make pizza for dinner, we’ll call you down when it’s ready,” Church said, smiling at Wash. “You need anything else?”

“No, I am good right now, thank you, Church. I will, uh…” he paused to remember the right words, “make myself at home.”

Church nodded and ushered Tucker out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“He seems pretty cool. A little stressed, but cool. He’ll fit right in,” Tucker pointed out.

Church smiled and nodded, wrapping an arm around Tucker’s shoulder. “Yeah, he will.” Church’s gesture seemed harmless and thoughtful until he balled his other hand into a fist and rubbed his knuckles on the smaller boy’s head, giving him a noogie. “He definitely will.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Church and Tucker take Wash to meet their friends. And they sure left an impression. Whether it was a good or bad one, Wash would have to figure out on his own.

Wash began to unpack his bags and moved all of his clothes into the dresser across the room from the bed, saving his nicer clothes to hang up in the closet. After putting his laptop on the desk, he set a framed photo of him, his mother, his father, and his cats next to it. Although moving to a completely different country for nine months scared the complete shit out of him, he was excited to learn new things and meet new people, even if the latter really wasn't his forte.

The exchange student agency did a great job of telling him some basic things about his host family. The Church family resided in a suburb of Chicago, Illinois and consisted of four people; Dr. Leonard Church Sr., the CEO of a large company located in the city, Carolina Church, the eldest child, aged 17 years, Leonard Church Jr., more commonly known as Church, the youngest child, aged 16 years, and the late Allison Church, who passed away about 12 years ago.

The Church family home was bigger than Wash had originally imagined it. The first floor consisted of the kitchen, family room, dining room, one bathroom, and Dr. Church’s bedroom. The second floor had a family room of its own, a bathroom that connected Carolina’s bedroom and Church’s bedroom, and a guest bedroom with its own bathroom that would be Wash’s for the coming school year.

Wash’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. A voice came from the other side.

“Wash? Dinner is ready,” Carolina called.

“I am almost done putting my things away. I will be there soon,” he replied.

“Okay,” she said, “Just come down when you’re ready.” Her footsteps grew quieter as she moved away from the door and descended the staircase.

Wash smiled to himself as he finished unpacking, stuffing his bags in the back of the closet. He moved his toiletries to the bathroom connected to his room.

Once the room was to his liking, he walked downstairs to the kitchen hesitantly, trying to make a mental map of the unfamiliar house.

Carolina, Church, and Tucker were seated at the small table in the kitchen, eating and chatting. Wash took a paper plate from the counter and placed a piece of pepperoni pizza on it, taking the empty seat at the round table between Tucker and Church, across from Carolina.

“So, Wash,” Church started, “What do ya think?”

Wash swallowed his bite and looked up at Church. “You have a very lovely home. Thank you for letting me stay here.”

“It’s no problem at all. I’m sure you’ll fit in just fine here,” Carolina cut in.

“Speaking of fitting in,” Tucker said with a mouth full of pizza, “You should come hang out with me and Church’s friends. Every Saturday we go to Grif’s place and hang out and watch movies and play games and stuff. You up for it?”

Carolina glared at him. “Tucker, he just got here, he’s probably still  jet lagged.”

Wash held up a hand, making a gesture that suggested Carolina didn’t need to worry. “I will be fine, thank you, Carolina. And I would love to meet your friends. It sounds fun.”

Carolina nodded and finished her pizza, standing up to toss her plate in the garbage. “Alright. Well, you boys have fun.” She went back upstairs, giving Wash a small wave as she walked away.

“We’re gonna head out as soon as we’re done eating,” Tucker said. “Church can drive us.”

“There’ll be quite a few people there. Let’s see… The usual group is me and Tucker, Caboose, Grif and his sister, Simmons, Sarge, Donut and Doc. Tex comes sometimes but you never really know with her.”

“Your friends have some unusual names,” Wash commented.

Church shrugged and finished eating, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, well, they’re some pretty unusual people.”

The other boys finished their pizza and cleaned up, heading out to Church’s car, a powder blue ‘08 Ford Focus. They got in, Church in the driver’s seat, Tucker in the passenger seat, and Wash in the middle of the back three seats. Church pulled out of the driveway and started en route to their destination. There was about a minute of silence between them filled only by the radio until Tucker turned in his seat to face Wash.

“So, Wash, what do you like to do? Like in your free time and stuff,” he asked.

Wash thought for a moment, his eyes flitting upward. “Well, I like to read. I like photography and art, mostly drawing and painting. I play some video games, but not very often.”

“Got any family?” Church asked, not taking his eyes from the road.

“My mother is Adèle and my father is Edward. And I have two cats named Ari and Skyler. I do not have any siblings,” he replied.

“Where do you and your family live in France?”

Wash didn’t mind being questioned like this. It was almost flattering, in a way. “We live in Marseille. It is in the south of France. It is a very beautiful city. And it is the second biggest city in France after Paris.”

Tucker’s face brightened. “Oh, yeah! That’s right on the beach isn’t it? Dude, I’ve totally been there! Well, I was like three years old, but still.”

“It is a very popular tourist destination. We live on the edge of the city, but it isn’t a far drive to the beach. My school is only a few streets up from the water.”

“That must be so awesome. Just looking out the window and looking at the ocean. Sorry to let you down, but the view from our school is nothing like that. All cars and roads and highways and smog. It’s kinda gross,” Tucker groaned.

They pulled into a driveway of a smaller brick house on the corner of the street. Church cut the engine and opened his door and Tucker followed suit. Wash scooted into the seat to the right and opened his door, slipping out.

“I think the guys are really gonna like you,” Church assured. He walked to the door and opened it, not bothering to knock. That threw Wash for a loop for a moment. Without saying a word or announcing to the inhabitants of the home that they had arrived, he and Tucker walked down the stairs to the basement and Wash followed.

“What’s up, fuckers?” Tucker shouted as he reached the bottom of the stairs, holding his arms out wide. Wash, a little nervous about meeting so many new people at once, kept his arms tight to his body, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, his posture more rigid than usual.

One of the boys, who was a little on the heavier side and appeared to be of Hawaiian descent, stood up from the couch and walked toward the trio. He clasped one of Tucker’s hands in his own, pulling him into one of the most aggressive hugs Wash had ever seen.

“Late as usual,” he commented.

Church rolled his eyes and scoffed. “You’d be even later than this if we didn’t have it at your house.”

The boy shrugged. “Hey, I’m not saying you’re wrong about that.” He looked at Wash quizzically for a moment before his expression softened to a smile. “Ah, you must be the exchange student that’s living with Church. Glad you could come. I’m Grif, and you are?” he asked, holding his hand out.

Wash returned the gesture and shook Grif’s hand. “I am David Washington, but you can call me Wash.”

“Hey, Wash. Let me introduce you to everyone,” he started, walking towards the large L-shaped couch. There were four people seated on it; a tall, lanky boy that appeared to be of chinese descent, a blond boy that appeared to have a passion for pink clothing, a ginger boy with rectangular glasses that was covered head to toe in freckles, and a boy that appeared to be much older than high school age, but Wash didn’t question it. In the order in which Wash noticed the boys, Grif introduced them. “Okay, so this is Caboose, Donut, Simmons, and Sarge. Everyone, this is Washington. He’s the exchange student that’s living with Church.” They waved at him, but two of them were more energetic about the waving than the others. Caboose and Donut, to be exact.

“Hello, Washingtub! It is so great to meet you!” Caboose exclaimed, jumping up and running to wrap his arms around Wash, smiling wide and lifting him off the ground. Wash’s eyes went wide.

Tucker sighed. “Sorry about him. He’s a little… Touchy-feely.”

“Come on, Caboose, let him go. You’re gonna choke him,” Church warned. Caboose released his grip and patted Wash’s head, skipping back to the couch.

Wash stopped to regain his breathing. “It’s nice to meet you all,” he said.

Grif motioned to the small table in the back of the room, where two people were seated across from each other, playing a card game. “That’s Doc and my sister over there. Guys, this is Wash.”

“Hey, Wash! Nice to meet you!” Doc said cheerily.

Grif’s sister got up and walked toward Wash. She eyed him up and down with sly smile on her face. “Hey,” she smirked. “You’re kinda hot!”

“Kai!” Grif scolded. “What did I tell you about hitting on everyone you meet?”

She pouted. “It’s not my fault all your friends are really hot!”

With that little incident aside, the night seemed to go on as normal. They switched off who played video games against who, Donut, Doc, and Kai gossiped, and Caboose bothered Church the whole time. Wash had been sitting near the end of the couch watching everyone’s antics alone until Tucker came and sat next to him.

“I didn’t know what you liked, so I just guessed,” he said, handing Wash a can of Sprite.

Wash took the drink with a smile, opening the tab. “This is fine. Thank you, Tucker.”

The two of them sat in as much silence as physically possible before Wash spoke again a moment later.

“Is everyone always this loud?”

Tucker shrugged and sipped at his soda. “Pretty much. Just be glad Simmons didn’t bring Mario Party this time.”

Simmons piped up from the other side of the couch. “It’s not my fault Grif’s a sore loser!”

“Okay, that’s it. You and me. Smash Brothers. Final Destination. No items. Two stock. We’re fucking settling this once and for all,” Grif hissed.

Tucker rolled his eyes and stood up, grabbing Wash’s arm and pulling him towards the staircase. Wash’s eyes went wide as he was yanked from his seat. Tucker sat on the second to last step and Wash did the same.

“What was that about?” Wash asked, a confused expression on his face.

Tucker slumped against the stairs and took a drink of his soda. “I didn’t want you to be in the middle of a Grif and Simmons Smash Brothers match. It gets ugly.”

Grif shouted from across the room, “Your face gets ugly!”

Tucker ignored the comment and groaned. He shut his eyes for a moment before they shot open again, a loud slam from the top of the stairs startling him. The sound of heavy leather combat boots on hardwood echoed throughout the basement. The footsteps grew louder and Tucker instantly registered the origin of the sounds. He grabbed Wash by the arm again and tugged him to sit at the card table. Tucker whispered to him, “Act natural. Tex is here.”

“Who is Tex?” Wash whispered back. Tucker shushed him and pointed his thumb to the stairs. A figure sauntered down the stairs, clad in all black with blonde hair tied in a ponytail.

“Buenos dias, cockbites,” she said, plopping down on the couch next to Church.

“Shouldn’t it be ‘buenas noches’?” Donut asked. “Because it’s like, eight o’clock.”

Tex rolled her eyes and relaxed, kicking one of her legs over the other, her arms spread across the back of the sofa.

Church sat up a little and looked at Tex. “Hey, Tex, there’s someone here I want you to meet.”

He stood up and Tex followed, leading her to the back of the room where Wash and Tucker were sitting.

“Tex, this is Wash. Wash is a French exchange student that’ll be living with me for the school year. Wash, this is my girlfriend, Tex,” he introduced.

“Oh, so you’re back together again? Two days, I think that’s a new record,” Tucker quipped.

Church glared at Tucker and Wash got up to shake Tex’s hand.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Tex,” he said.

She nodded. “Right back at ya.” She and Church went back to the couch, sitting next to each other again.

Wash turned to Tucker. “She scares me.”

“Same here, dude,” Tucker laughed.

The rest of the night was pretty much the same as it had been. The people playing video games screamed, as did the spectators. Tucker asked Wash what seemed like a billion questions about why he came to the states, what life in France is like, et cetera. At around ten, Church, Tucker, and Wash decided to head back to the house. Wash thanked Church for taking him to meet his friends and went up to his room. Still a little jet lagged, Wash went to bed after calling his parents and letting them know he got settled in alright. He decided with the group of people he was going to be around, this school year was going to be the most interesting one yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my school's firewall for not blocking this site. Also shout out to my study hall teacher for letting me go to the writing center every day for the past week so I could write fanfiction. If only he knew. Anyway, I hope y'all like this chapter!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is breakfast, a treehouse, and a party.

The August morning sunlight filtered through the green leaves of the canopy of trees in the Church family’s backyard. The whole flying across an ocean and multiple time zones thing still hadn’t quite settled in his brain right, even after being with the Church family for a few days now. Finding a decent sleep schedule was still hard, and adjusting to the new time zone was harder. It was 7 a.m. and he was already fully awake. The truth was, he hadn’t exactly woken up at 7. He never went to sleep. That happened more than he’d like to admit. He remembered his mother’s words at the airport telling him to call her a few days after landing and getting sorted out, after, of course, telling him to call her as soon as he landed. All of his belongings were in the proper places in his new room. Technically that meant he was settled in, right? He didn’t feel that way, though. Living in a new country and getting adjusted to it was a lot harder than he’d originally thought. Anxiety had wracked his brain since he stepped onto the plane. He tapped on his mother’s contact, fingers shaky from too much thought, and the dial tone began.

"David? Êtes-vous encore déballé?” (David? Are you all settled in there?)

"Oui, maman, je vais bien.” (Yes, Mom, I’m good.)

"Dieu Merci! Donc, aimez-vous leur maison?” (Thank God! So, do you like their house?)

"Oui, c'est très agréable.” (Yes. It’s very nice.)

"Vous ne semblez pas très heureux. Vous vous ennuyez?” (You do not seem very happy. Are you upset?)

“Non, je suis simplement fatigué.” (No, I’m just tired.)

“D’accord. Votre père dit bonjour.” (Alright. Your father says hello.)

“Pouvez-vous lui mettre sur le téléphone s'il vous plaît?” (Can you put him on the phone please?)

“Oui. Je t’aime. Au revoir.” (Yes. I love you. Goodbye.)

“Je t’aime aussi.” (I love you, too.)

The other line was quiet until his dad spoke.

“Hey, David, how’re you liking Chicago? Nice isn’t it?”

“I can’t say much about the city yet, I’ve only been to the Church’s house and to the house of one of the son’s friends.”

“Ah, so you’re making friends already! That’s great! I’m glad things are going well there.”

“I am, too.”

His dad spoke again, but Wash was distracted by Tucker opening the sliding glass door, joining him outside.

“Uh, dad, I’m going to have to call you back later. Bye, love you.” Wash quickly hung up and locked his phone, setting it on the table.

Tucker sat next to him at the table and smiled a little.

“You close with your folks?” he asked, not looking at Wash, but rather at the trees in the forest past the wooden fence.

Wash thought for a moment. “Yeah, a little, I guess.”

“Must be nice.”

A confused expression plastered Wash’s face as he looked at the other boy. “What?”

Tucker shrugged. “I dunno. I’ve only got my mom and little brother. The whole perfect suburban family deal always seemed nice. Y’know, big house, white picket fence, apple pie, all that shit.”

“Do you not get along with your family?”

“No, no,” Tucker said, crossing his arms, still looking at the leaves He fretted with his dreads, tying them back with a rubber band. “I love my family. They’re great.”

Wash was still confused. “Then what do you mean?”

A sigh forced its way from Tucker’s lips, followed by another shrug. “I dunno.”

There was a moment of comfortable silence between them before Tucker spoke again, turning to look at the blonde.

“So, Wash.” he started.

Wash looked over at him. He hummed in affirmation, “Hm?”

Relaxing in the chair, Tucker kicked one leg over the other and crossed his arms behind his head. “You’ve been here for, what? Three days now? And I don’t know hardly anything about you. And considering I spend the majority of my time here rather than my own house, I figured I should probably know some more about you. I know I already asked you this, but you didn’t really give me much of an answer. So, Wash. What do you like? What’re you into? Y’know, hobbies, interests…” he paused. “Fetishes. Bow chicka bow wow.”

He turned bright red and sputtered, mostly what sounded like broken sentences in French. “Wh-What?”

Tucker laughed loudly, clapping his hand on Wash’s shoulder. “Dude, I’m just kidding. But seriously, what do you like? Not sexually. I mean, unless you wanna answer that.”

“I don’t quite understand. Could you narrow it down for me?”

“Uh… Like what’s your favorite color, what you want to do after high school, what do you do for fun, stuff like that.”

The gears in his mind churned, thinking for answers as his leg shook restlessly. “I like grey and yellow… After high school I wish to be a teacher or a police officer. And I like to read, play piano, and work out in my free time. Oh, and I skateboard.”

Tucker perked up and smiled. “You know how to skateboard? That’s so awesome! You totally have to teach me sometime.”

“You want to learn?”

He nodded. “Hell yeah! I’ve wanted to since I was a little kid. It seems hard though.”

Wash shrugged. “It is at first. But once you practice enough you’ll be fine.”

“Thanks, man,” Tucker hummed, smiling at Wash, shoving his shoulder gently.

 

* * *

 

The Church siblings sat with Tucker at the island in the kitchen; Carolina sipped at her mug of coffee and Church and Tucker absentmindedly ate their cereal, engrossed in a head-to-head match of Mario Kart. Wash was still sleeping, the jet lag surely taking a toll on him. Luckily for him, school didn't start for a few more weeks.

“I want to take Wash to the twins’ birthday party so he can meet everyone,” Carolina thought out loud.

“Ha! Take that motherfucker!” Tucker exclaimed, focusing more intently on the console in his hands.

“Oh, shit, you did not pass me. Stop-- fucking stop it! You’re kicking my ass!”

Tucker laughed triumphantly. “Hell yeah I am! Come on, Toad! Kick Bowser’s ass!”

The game ended and Church set his game down with a little more force than necessary and let out a long groan. “Fuck you, dude.”

“We've already gone over this; you’re not my type,” Tucker mused. Church shoved him and rolled his eyes.

Carolina set down her mug and glared at the boys. “Did either of you even hear me?”

They went quiet for a second before responding in unison with a hesitant, “Yes…?”

“I was thinking about taking Wash to the Dakota’s party tonight,” she repeated. “I think it’ll be best if he makes some friends before school starts so he won’t be all alone.”

“He won’t be all alone!” Tucker piped up. “He has us! And our friends. But do you really think taking him to that party is the best idea?”

“What do you mean?” Carolina asked, squinting her eyes menacingly. “You took him to Grif’s place yesterday.”

“Well, your friends are really… What’s the word…? Church, help me out here.”

“Aggressive,” he commented, not missing a beat.

“Yeah, aggressive,” Tucker agreed. “I just don’t know if he’ll get along with them all that well.”

Carolina groaned and stood up from her seat, walking to set her mug in the sink. “To be completely honest, your opinion doesn’t really matter to me.”

“What if he’s still jet lagged, though?” Tucker asked. “Maybe he doesn’t even want to go to this stupid fucking party.”

Crossing her arms, she smirked at him. “Jet lag only really affects you for about twenty-four hours. Plus, he seemed just fine when you all went out last night.”

Tucker’s mouth flapped open and closed, trying to formulate a response, but nothing came out.

“That’s what I thought. I think he’ll get along with everyone. Well, South is pretty hardheaded but nevertheless, I think he’ll be fine.”

A knock sounded from the front door.

“Who the hell is that? Did someone take down the ‘beware of dog’ sign I put up?” Church groaned.

Confusion spread across Tucker’s face. “Uh, dude? You don’t have a dog.”

“No fucking shit, Tucker. I put it up for Carolina.”

Ah, the bliss of siblinghood. They might’ve seemed like they absolutely hated each other’s guts at first glance, but deep down, they really cared for each other.

Carolina went to answer the door and shot Church a look. “Very funny. You should be a comedian.”

“Y’know what,” he started, standing up from his seat and pointing at her. “I fucking will! I’ll be the funniest motherfucker this side of the Mississippi!”

“Whatever you say, Church.” She opened the door for the surprise guest.

In front of her stood a tall boy with brown hair gelled up in the front and a blind, scarred left eye.

“York?” she asked. “What are you doing here? You know my dad hates it when you just drop in like this.”

He pecked her cheek and walked in, heading for the kitchen. “Nice to see you, too, babe. Plus, he’s at work. And! Tucker here texted me and told me you have a house guest. And I’d love to meet him!” He clapped a hand on Tucker’s shoulder, causing him to wince a little.

“He’s still sleeping.” Tucker brushed York’s hand off him. “He was up hella early this morning. I don’t think he even slept last night.”

York pulled up a chair and sat on it backwards, leaning over the back. “Why not?”

A shrug shook his shoulders. “Dunno. Nerves, maybe. He just seems generally kinda anxious.”

As York was about to reply, footsteps sounded from the staircase. Wash entered the room, his bare feet padding across the floor. He was clad in a pair of black sweatpants and a grey shirt with yellow stripes that dashed over his shoulders and down his sides. He rubbed his eyes and noticed the stranger.

“Oh, I didn’t know we were going to have company. I would have changed my clothes.”

“Don’t worry about it, man. I’m York. James York.” He winked.

Carolina rolled her eyes. “York, this is David Washington, the French exchange student that’ll be staying with us this year.”

“Nice to meet you, David!” he chirped, holding out his hand and flashing a wide smile.

“Please, call me Wash,” he said, returning York’s handshake with a small smile.

Nodding, York let go of Wash’s hand. “Got it, Wash.”

Carolina went to fill up her mug again, looking over her shoulder. “Does anyone want any coffee? Besides York. I know you’ve already had at least two cups today.”

York huffed and slumped over the chair, an over-exaggerated frown tugging at his lips.

“I’ll have some, thank you,” Wash piped up, sitting in the chair between York and Church.

Tucker hummed and mumbled something unintelligible.

Ceramic rattled against the marble countertop as Carolina set down Wash’s mug and began to pour the molten liquid. “What was that, Tucker?” she snapped.

“You never offer me coffee,” he whined, not looking up from his console.

Carrying the mug carefully to the table, she set it down and hit the back of Tucker’s head more gently than she probably should’ve. “Shut up. You don’t even like coffee. Last time I made you some you used up half of the sugar.”

“Hey! Sorry that I get my daily intake of bitter from being around you two so much,” he motioned to Church and Carolina. “I need my coffee to be as sweet as me,” he jested. In what he thought was a suave motion, he leaned back in his chair and moved his arms up, fingers laced behind his head of dreadlocks, the epitome of smooth. Carolina thumped the back of his head again. “What the fuck?!” he exclaimed. “It was a fucking joke!”

She glared at him. She turned to Wash, her expression softening. “Do you need anything for your coffee, Wash? Milk, creamer, sugar, anything like that?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I like it just like this. Thank you, though.”

Church groaned. “How do you drink that shit black? It’s so disgusting. I don’t understand how you can stomach that.”

“That’s racist!” Tucker screeched.

“Shut the fuck up, you know what I meant.”

Carolina sat next to York and sipped at her coffee. “Enough,” she snapped. “You two bicker like an old married couple. You might even be worse than those two you always hang around. Grif and Simmons.”

Church and Tucker started to react, but Carolina shushed them before they could get a word in.

“I’ve heard it a billion times. Now that you’re actually quiet for once,” she paused to glance at Wash. “Wash, would you like to come to a party with York and me tonight? It’s nothing big, just a birthday party for a few of our friends. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I bet you’re still pretty tired.”

He thought for a moment and smiled. “I would love to go. I had plenty of time to rest this morning, so I think I’m fine,” he said. “I would very much like to meet your friends, since I have already met Church and Tucker’s.”

“Great!” York chirped. “You’re gonna have tons of fun.”

Wash smiled and looked at York, his eyes lingering on the scars jutting down his cheek. York noticed and gave Wash a small smile, one corner of his lips turning up.

“Wondering how I got this bad boy, huh?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare…” Wash panicked.

York waved it off with a chuckle. “Nah, it’s okay. I’m used to people staring. I mean, I had people stare at me before this. Because I’m just so damn handsome.”

Carolina smacked York’s arm, drinking her coffee. Her expression didn’t change at all. She was used to this.

“Ow!” he shrieked. He rubbed his arm for a moment. “Anyway. Back to my story. This is from a car accident I was in back in freshman year."

"That must have been awful. I'm so sorry," Wash sympathized.

York shrugged it off and smiled again. "Eh. It's not really a big deal. I mean, my depth perception is way off but I'm alright. Plus, it makes me look hella badass. Not that I need it, that is.”

Carolina scoffed.

“Y’know, Wash,” Church interrupted, “you don’t have to go to this party if you don’t want to.”

Wash sipped at his coffee. “No, I want to go. I’ll be fine,” he said with a smile.

Carolina shot a look at him. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?” Church asked innocently.

She pointedly ignored him and looked at Wash. “The party starts at six. I’m assuming York will just hang out here until then. I need someone to keep me company when I go grocery shopping, anyway.”

York smiled and leaned in close to her, nuzzling his face into her neck. She smiled and let out a soft laugh, trying to push him off of her.

Tucker groaned and rolled his eyes. “Can y’all chill it with the gross romantic shit for like, two seconds, please?”

“You’re just pissed ‘cause you’re single,” Church quipped. “And can’t get a girlfriend.”

“I can get anyone I want! They’re just too intimidated by how hot I am.”

The whole room, sans Wash, burst into laughter. Church clapped him on the back and laughed.

“I knew there was a reason I hung around you, buddy. You’re just too fucking funny.”

Tucker huffed. “I’m serious!” he squeaked.

“Sure you are,” Carolina said, standing up from her seat. “I’m going to go ahead and get this shopping done now because if we sit around any longer, York won’t want to get up.”

York shrugged and smiled in response. York stood and Carolina slipped on her shoes and grabbed her purse. Wash figured they wouldn’t be gone long, they said they only had to get a few things for the party. Chips, soda, things like that. The two of them left, the sound of an engine starting echoing through the garage. The soft hum grew quieter as the car pulled out of the driveway and took off down the street. Church shot up from his seat and stretched.

“Well, I’m out of here. Later, nerds.”

Tucker grimaced at his friend. “What the hell, man? Where the fuck are you going?”

“To Tex’s place, duh,” he said with a roll of his eyes. He snatched his car keys from the hook on the wall, heading towards the door. “If I’m not back before ‘Lina is, start planning my funeral.”

He walked out the door, the house dead silent after his car drove down the street, Wash and Tucker sat in what only could be described as the most awkward silence either of them had ever experienced in their whole lives. Wash’s fingers fidgeted with just about anything he could reach. The handle of his mug, the collar of his shirt, the edge of the table, his hair, the freckles splattered across his skin. He scratched at the back of his neck and chewed his fingernails. The sound of his nails on his skin and his teeth on his nails seemed deafening in the silence to him, but was almost too soft to hear to Tucker, despite what Wash thought. He figured it was as loud to the other as it was to him, stopping immediately. His leg shook, the heel of his foot tapping against the white tile floor.

“You okay?” Tucker asked. “You seem, like, hella anxious, man.”

Wash’s head snapped in Tucker’s direction so fast he probably could’ve gotten whiplash from the right angle. “Huh? Oh, uh, no, I’m fine.” He cleared his throat, his voice gruff.

Tucker laughed and stood up from his chair, grabbing Wash’s forearm and pulling him towards the sliding glass door leading to the deck. “Yeah, right. Whatever. Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”

Wash sputtered as he was pulled into the backyard and down the wooden stairs of the deck. He hadn’t seen any of the Church’s yard apart from the quick glimpse he caught early this morning. Tucker finally let go of Wash’s arm after opening the gate in the back of the fence, a small dirt path leading into the forest.

“Follow me,” he said with a wave of his arm. “And keep up. We don’t need you getting lost. Or worse, poison ivy.”

They followed the path for a few minutes before Tucker stopped in front of a tree that was more isolated than the others. The path seemed to continue on for quite a while, but Tucker ignored it. His head was tilted to the sky, eyes focused on something. Wash followed his gaze to a large wooden structure built into the tree, with wooden planks for steps leading up the trunk.

“Pretty fuckin’ sweet, huh?” he commented, a smile on his face and his arms crossed across his chest. “Me and Church found this way back in elementary school. Apparently there’s little old lady that lives next door,” he pointed to the left, “and her husband built this way back when. He died a while back, though.”

“That’s awful,” Wash said quietly.

Tucker shrugged. “Eh. It is what it is. Sure, the guy might be dead, but at least his hella cool treehouse is still stable. Trust me. When Carolina gets super pissed, me and Church hide away up here still. She knows where we go, but she doesn’t seem to bother to come and find us.”

The shorter boy grabbed onto the plank just above his head, hoisting himself up to stand on the step. He jerked his head in the direction of the fort. “Come on, you gotta see this.”

He went up the steps quickly and Wash followed, realizing how awkward it was that he was staring at Tucker’s ass the whole way up.

There was a small wooden door leading into the house. Tucker pushed it open and crawled inside, holding his hand out for Wash to grab onto. He helped the blonde up and settled into the corner, leaning against the wall. As he climbed inside, Wash examined the room, which was a lot bigger than he’d originally expected it to be. In one corner there was a stack of blankets and pillows. They seemed relatively new and clean.

‘Tucker and Church must have brought them in here recently,’ Wash thought.

There were push-activated, battery-operated lights spaced evenly on the walls throughout the room, but none were turned on. A telescope was folded up in the corner opposite Tucker. The last corner was empty, apart from another small door, identical to the first one.

Wash pointed at the door. “Where’s that one go?” he asked.

“Why don’t you go see for yourself?” Tucker laughed. “I’ll be right behind ya.”

Nodding, Wash crawled to the door. He pushed it open and stepped out onto a ledge jutting out from the treehouse. He stood up straight and turned around to face the fort. A ladder to the top was attached to the wall.

“Just keep going,” Tucker commented, his head poking out of the door.

Wash climbed up the ladder. The leaves of the tree above casted glistening shadows on the wood below his feet. There were two lawn chairs on the roof, which was understandable to Wash. At night, this would be the perfect place to look at the stars. ‘Guess that’s what the telescope was for,’ he thought.

“Like I said,” Tucker said from behind him, “Pretty fuckin’ sweet.”

Wash was speechless. The view was incredible.

“Church and I fixed her up a bit a year or two ago,” Tucker hummed. “We used to spend a lot of time up here.”

Wash turned to look at Tucker. The sunlight illuminated his dark skin and his brown eyes seemed to turn golden. He had a look of accomplishment on his face, his eyes soft and a happy smile stretched across his full lips. After a moment, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Uh, Wash?” he asked. “You okay, man? I think you’ve said a whole two words since we left the house.”

He was right. Wash had been silent almost the whole time. He didn’t mean to worry Tucker. “It’s so beautiful up here,” was all he said.

Tucker laughed and clapped a hand on Wash’s back. “I knew bringing you up here would help you chill the fuck out. Hey, how about if you ever want to come here and hang out and I’m not at Church’s place for whatever reason, you text me, and we can meet up here and chill out. It’s super cool out here at night.” Tucker held out his hand, palm facing upwards. “Give me your phone. I’ll put my number in it.”

Wash handed his phone over and looked at the other skeptically. “Wouldn’t Dr. Church get upset if I snuck out?”

Tucker laughed loudly. “Ha! That’s a good one, dude. Yeah, the dude would blow a fucking gasket. But that’s only if you get caught. And he’s pretty fucking oblivious. And don’t call him,” he made air quotes with his fingers, “‘Doctor Church’. Everyone calls him the Director. Even his own kids. No clue why, though. If you ask me, I think he’s the head of some super secret government project that’s actually just a huge psychological experiment. Y’know, see what makes people tick. Put them under pressure until they crack.” He shrugged. “That’s just a hunch, though.” Tucker gave him his phone back. “Just text me when you get a chance and I’ll add you to my contacts.”

The two of them didn’t stay up in the treehouse for very much longer. They chatted idly about what the school was like, what the teachers were like, what he’d need in terms of supplies, and even made plans for later in the week to shop for said supplies. Tucker mentioned something about having to go grocery shopping for his mom, and wouldn’t be able to go back to the Church’s house with Wash. Wash wasn’t entirely sure he could make it back to the house on his own, fearing he’d get lost in the deep abyss of oak and pine trees. Tucker offered to at least walk him back to the back gate, but after that he’d have to get moving in order to avoid getting in huge trouble. They walked in silence. But this silence wasn’t like the silence before; it wasn’t awkward. It was… refreshing, almost. Wash hadn’t really talked to Tucker much since he’d been in the States, so it was nice to get to know him a little. Just like he said, Tucker dropped Wash off at the back gate, smiling and waving.

“Hey, if that party you’re going to later turns out to be a total drag,” he said with a grin. “Just text me, ‘kay?”

Wash nodded and smiled. “Au revoir, Tucker.”

“Awh… whatever you just said!” he called back, walking through the yard to the sidewalk lining the front of the houses. Wash remembered him saying something about only living a couple streets up from the Church’s house.

Wash opened the gate and followed the same path as before, slipping back into the house as quietly as possible. He checked the garage to see if either Carolina or Church had returned yet. It was empty. The house felt eerily quiet when no one was there. It almost felt like a hotel. It seemed too clean for a home of two, sometimes three, teenagers. Wash ascended the plush white carpet of the stairs and returned to his room. Might as well get some reading done when there’s peace and quiet, right?

Carolina and York returned about half an hour after Wash, cabinet doors opening and closing sounding from the kitchen. He couldn’t make out any specific words in their conversation, but at one point, Carolina raised her voice, speaking in an exasperated tone. Wash figured she must have realized that Church wasn’t at the house. Per his suspicions, a door opened and closed a few minutes later, but there were no words spoken afterwards. Only a shrill screech and hurried footsteps from the kitchen to one of the bedrooms.

 

* * *

 

The old black grandfather clock in foyer chimed six times. Wash shut his book and sat up on his bed. There was a knock at his door.

“Hey, Wash? We’re going to leave for the party soon. Just letting you know,” Carolina said.

He had already gotten dressed and ready, but his shoes were still downstairs.

“I’ll be down in a minute,” he called. Carolina hummed in reply and padded down the hall.

Tucker hadn’t come back to the Church house, presumably spending time with his family. Wash stood and typed out a message to him on his phone.

[TO: Tucker] We’re leaving for the party now. Wish me luck.

[FROM: Tucker] godspeed, my friend. text me if u get hella bored. im just watching a movie with junior.

[TO: Tucker] Have fun with that.

Wash shoved his phone into his pocket and flicked the light switch off before leaving the room and shutting the door. Hushed curses and screams echoed from behind Church’s bedroom door.

“Caboose!” he shrieked. “Stop fucking killing me! We’re on the same goddamn team!”

The blonde laughed quietly to himself, following the carpet down the stairs to the foyer. He sat on the stairs, pulling on his shoes. He saw Carolina pull a large box out of the refrigerator. She heard him behind her and turned around, setting the box on the island.

“Ready to go?” she asked.

Wash nodded and smiled, standing up and walking to the kitchen. He remembered that York was to come with them, but he was nowhere to be found. He looked around with a confused expression on his face. Carolina grabbed a few more things from the fridge and smiled at him knowingly.

“York's trying to find the twins' presents. I left him in charge of wrapping them here and he lost them. In hindsight, I should've wrapped them myself.”

Wash sat on one of the tall bar stools. “So your friends are twins?” he asked.

“Mhm,” she hummed, putting two two-liter bottles of soda in a reusable shopping bag. “Aleksandr and Anya Dakota. We call them North and South, though. As you can see, state names are kinda our thing.” She smiled. “Which means you'll fit in just fine.”

Wash smiled at that. “Who else will be there?”

She thought for a second before speaking again. “Let's see... There's you, me, York, and the Dakotas, of course. There's also CT and Maine.” She paused, her face shifting to a poorly hidden grimace. “And possibly Tex.”

By her face at even the thought of Tex, Wash knew there was something wrong. He decided it was best to not ask.

“I knew that's where it was!” York yelled from the study. He jogged into the kitchen and plopped two horribly wrapped boxes on the countertop.

Carolina gave him a blank stare. “What did I tell you about going in my father's study?”

“Listen,” he defended himself. “I know no one's supposed to go in there, but it was the perfect place to hide presents. And I didn't break anything this time!”

“For some reason, I don't believe you. But I'm not going to worry about that right now. If we don't leave in the next five minutes, we'll be late.”

York leaned over the back of the chair next to Wash. “It won't kill you to be late for once, you know.”

She glared daggers at him and his eyes went wide. “Right, right. Let's get going, team!”

Carolina rolled her eyes and placed the gifts in the bag with the sodas, slinging it over her shoulder. York grabbed the box that Carolina pulled from the fridge. They stepped into the garage, getting into Carolina's car.

“What's in that box?” Wash asked.

York opened the lid to show him, a white cake with purple icing flowers scattered in the corners. In a fancy script it read “Happy Birthday, North and South!”.

“It's vanilla and chocolate marble,” York explained and shut the box. “The twins love vanilla chocolate marble cake.”

Carolina pulled out of the driveway and followed the roads to the twins' house from memory. York and Carolina explained that they'd known the twins and most of their other friends since they were very young. Wash watched the scenery scroll by the window, listening to the other two chat. They were kind of an unlikely couple in Wash's eyes. 'Opposites really do attract, I guess,' he thought.

The car ride was relatively short, considering how much traffic there was surrounding the Chicago area on any given night. Carolina parked the car on the street next to a rather small white house at the end of a dead-end street. As the got out of the car, York popped Carolina’s trunk and she groaned.

“No. You are not bringing that thing inside.”

He pouted. “Why not?”

“Because you only know Wonderwall.”

York pulled a black leather guitar case from the trunk and shut it, giving Carolina a look. “Not true! I actually learned another song.”

“Whatever you say.”

They walked up the driveway and York knocked on the door. Only seconds later, a tall blonde boy opened it for them.

“Hey, guys, come on in,” he welcomed. As they entered the doorway, he smiled at Wash. “You must be Wash. It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Aleksandr, but you can call me North. Over there,” he motioned to a girl on the couch with choppy blonde hair, the same shade as his, but the tips dyed lavender, “is my sister, South.” He called to her. “South, come over and say hello.”

“What?” she spat. “It's only York and 'Lina. It's not like I haven't seen them a billion times already this summer.”

He sighed and turned to Wash. “Sorry about her. She'll introduce herself eventually, trust me.”

He had the most genuine smile Wash had ever seen. It was very comforting, almost like a smile a mother would give to her children. Wash nodded and smiled back.

Carolina and York put their food where the rest was. Even with Carolina's fretting about being late, they still seemed to be the last ones to arrive. South was perched on the couch, a small girl with tanned skin and short brown hair with one side shaved sat next to her, eating from a bag of chips. On the love seat across the room from the couch sat a boy that seemed much to large to be in high school. Even sitting down, he seemed to tower over everyone in the room. His head was shaved, the only visible hairs being his eyebrows. His face was twisted into what seemed to be an upset or disappointed frown.

As Wash made conversation with the others, he learned that the girl sitting next to South was named Connie, but she hated that name. She asked Wash to call her CT. She also told him that the menacing boy on the love-seat was her brother, Emilio. Everyone called him Maine, though. He continued to glare at Wash, which started to make him feel extremely uneasy. Did he do something to upset him somehow? Wash wasn't sure what he did, but he was sure that he was going to stay as far away from this guy as physically possible out of fear that he'd rip his heart out with his bare hands. Unfortunately, the couch was completely full and the hardwood floor was extremely uncomfortable. The only open seat was next to Maine. It took him a moment to slow his breathing and rapid heart rate, but despite himself, he got up and sat next to him. He sat as far away from him as physically possible, pressed against the arm of the sofa, his legs crossed over one another. Conversation amongst the others continued on, but the silence between Wash and Maine was deafening. Wash’s mouth went dry and his fingers fidgeted. Maine gave him a confused glance. He cleared his throat and looked at the taller boy.

“I’m Wash,” he said suddenly. “You must be Maine. It’s nice to meet you.” He extended a hand to him.

Maine’s expression softened slightly as he returned the gesture, but he didn’t speak. Wash’s mouth became a desert again and he felt anxiety well up in his stomach. Getting up, he made his way to the table covered in food. North stood at the table, as well, refilling his cup with soda.

“Wondering what Maine’s deal is, huh?” he asked.

Wash’s head snapped in the direction of North’s voice. “What?”

North chuckled and smiled. “Don’t worry about it, he is pretty scary. He got into an accident a few years back. Injured his throat, left him mute. He didn’t talk much before then, so it’s not too hard for him.”

“That sounds horrible…” Wash said quietly, looking over his shoulder at Maine.

North patted his shoulder comfortingly. “He’s fine. Don’t worry about him.”

Wash smiled in return and nodded.

 

* * *

 

The rest of the night went on smoothly. Wash got along with the others swimmingly, even talking with Maine a little bit. Well, they wrote to each other on a notebook that Maine brought, but it still felt like talking to Wash. Deep down, Maine was just a big softie, even if he seemed like he could kill you with one look. York played his guitar and everyone groaned, having heard the same two songs over and over again. The sound of chords floated through the air and Wash opened his phone, his fingers ghosting over a blank text message to Tucker. He sighed and locked his phone, setting it on the back of the couch and going to join the others on the couch, perching himself on the arm, smiling and enjoying the company.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! This is definitely the longest chapter yet, but I'm super proud of it. I wanted to have this chapter done like two weeks ago to dedicate it to Miles for their birthday, but I'm going to do it anyway. Happy (belated) birthday to my best friend! I love you! No romo.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tucker acts too quickly for his mind to actually understand what's going on.

“Dude, no, you gotta move to get it! If you sit in one place it makes it, like, twenty times harder, trust me. I’ve been doing this since I was born,” Tucker said, a grape between his fingers.

“I find that highly improbable,” Wash laughed. “I don’t think an infant would be able to do this.”

The other boy groaned. “You know what I mean! Okay, remember what I told you. Keep your eyes on it, curl your lips over your teeth, and keep your tongue out of the way. That’ll make it easier. Bow chicka bow wow.”

Wash rolled his eyes and chuckled, nodding at Tucker, signaling him.

Tucker nodded back at him and tossed the grape into the air above Wash’s head. He followed the advice Tucker had given him, keeping his tongue flat in his mouth, curving his lips, tilting his head back and following the grape with his eyes. Just as he expected this fruit to his his nose, he felt it hit his tongue. His eyes opened wide as he looked at Tucker, a huge smile on his face. Tucker’s face matched his friend’s as a laugh bubbled up from his throat.

“I told you you could do it, man!” he said, pulling Wash into a tight hug, his hand clapping on his back. His arms lingered around Wash’s shoulders for a moment too long, suddenly pulling back as if he had been burned. He felt his face heat up and he coughed, looking down at his crossed legs on Wash’s bed.

Tucker had been acting more and more odd as the weeks went by, and Wash had noticed, but wasn’t exactly sure why. He convinced himself it was because he was anxious about school starting up again, but that really didn’t seem to be the case. If that was what was really on his mind, it would’ve died down once school started. It didn’t.

* * *

 

Tucker groaned and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, turning away from Church. “Why can’t you just let this shit go, man?”

“Because it’s super fucking obvious! You look at him like he’s the center of the goddamned universe! You never stop smiling when you’re around the guy, but God forbid you touch him, or you flip the fuck out! You’re so head over heels for him it makes me sick!”

He huffed and stomped his foot, spinning around to face him. “I’m not gay!”

Church ran his hands through his hair, giving an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know what you are, and I really don’t care, I’m just saying that everyone on the fucking planet can tell you’re basically dying to make out with him. Well, except him, apparently.”

Tucker flopped on Church’s bed, laying face down and groaning into the sheets.

Church patted his back. “You know you can talk to me about this, right, man?”

He flipped onto his back and looked up at the ceiling of Church’s bedroom. “This is just all so confusing! I really like hanging out with him and talking to him and if we ended up, y’know, making out and stuff I really wouldn’t mind…? And I’ve never felt like that about a dude. And I’m not gay! I still like girls. Like, I really like girls.”

“You can like guys and girls, you know.”

“But I don’t like guys!”

“You just fucking said you did!”

“I don’t like guys, I like Wash.”

Church squinted at him, his face contorting in confusion. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t even know, okay? All of this is new to me, too, man.”

Church snorted. “It’s not new to me.”

Tucker looked at him. “Huh?”

“Dude, York is pansexual,” he explained.

The gears in Tucker’s mind seemed to jam. “He wants to fuck kitchen supplies? I thought he was dating your sister!”

With a roll of his eyes, Church shook his head. “No, dipshit, it means he likes dudes and chicks, but he doesn’t have a preference for either one.”

“Doesn’t that mean he’s bi, though?”

“No, that’s different. He likes both, but it’s more of he likes someone for their personality, it doesn’t matter what gender they are.”

Tucker nodded and thought for a moment. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but closed it again.

Church looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to finish his thought.

Tucker grabbed his backpack from the floor, shrugging it over his shoulder. As he approached the door, he looked back at Church. “I’ll, uh, I’ll talk to you later, man. See ya.”

“What the fuck?” he exclaimed. “You’re just gonna leave with no warning?”

There was no reply from Tucker, only the door slamming shut.

Church opened his door and shouted, “You said you were going to help me with my History homework, you fuck!”

Tucker ran down the stairs and whizzed by Carolina so fast she didn’t even realize it. He hopped on his bike and raced down the street, probably not paying enough attention to his surroundings or where he was going in general.

The green leaves of the trees combined into a blur as his thoughts did the same. He couldn’t seem to focus on one single thing for too long. They came and went like speeding bullets in his mind. After riding for what felt like a few minutes, but could’ve been much longer, an idea came to him. Turning on a dime, he headed in the direction he came from. He rode back to the Church’s house and along the fence. Following the thin dirt path, he made his way to the treehouse. The beating of his heart picked up and suddenly he couldn’t feel the tips of his fingers. Just as he could only seem to see through tunnel vision, he stumbled off his bike and left it sitting in the dusty soil, quickly climbing up the wooden ladder. He moved to one corner of the small area, pulling his phone out from his pocket. He needed someone to talk to and to help him from probably dying. Sorting through the favorites section of his contacts, he weighed the pros and cons of calling each person.

Church knew his situation, but would probably be pissed at him for just getting up and leaving. York has… personal experience, for lack of a better term, but would most likely only give some some bullshit advice like ‘follow your heart’ or some shit. He’d known Carolina for as long as he’d known Church, so she was like the sister he never wanted. Unfortunately, he didn’t think her… particular style of advice would really help him at this point. With everyone else completely useless to him, he hit the last name on the list and held the phone up to his ear.

“Hello?” the voice on the other line spoke after a moment.

Tucker tried his best not to hyperventilate as he answered, but ultimately failed. “Treehouse. I’m dying. Help me.” He hung up the phone and set it next to him, the realization of what he’d just done washing over him like a tidal wave.

The one person that, absolutely, under no circumstances whatsoever, could know about what was going on, was the one that he called. God, he was so fucking stupid, he honestly couldn’t believe himself.

He only had a limited amount of time to think about what he was even going to say to Wash before he got to the treehouse. Too bad he actually spent ninety-eight percent of that time just mumbling ‘oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck’ to himself.

The sound of someone climbing into the treehouse sent him to a whole new level of panic. Wash’s head poked in through the small door.

“Tucker?” he asked. “Are you alright? You said you were dying and I didn’t know if you were being serious or not.”

Tucker’s mouth flapped open and closed several times, only vague sounds and broken words and sentences coming out, moving his hands around wildly. Wash gave him a confused glance as he continued this for the better part of a minute.

Once he figured that Tucker was done with his antics, Wash said, “I have absolutely no idea what that’s supposed to mean. Use your words, Tucker.”

Tucker huffed and rubbed his face. ‘Come on, man,’ he thought to himself. ‘You just have to tell him you like him. It’s not a big deal.’

He changed what he wanted to say to him at the last possible second. “Well, I don’t think I’m straight? I don’t know what I am really? Church was talking about something like… pan sexual? And the way he explained it made a lot of sense to me, so. I might be that?”

Wash nodded. “I’m pansexual. Well, panromantic, but it’s basically the same thing.”

“Hold on a sec, no it’s not. They’re different words, so the mean different things, obviously.”

He chuckled and leaned against the wall. “It means the same thing that pansexual does, only just for romantic relationships.”

With a laugh, Tucker added, “What, so you don’t want to fuck anyone?”

Wash shrugged. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“What?” Tucker asked, his voice going an octave too high. “How do you not want to fuck anyone?”

“I just don’t…? I’m asexual.”

Tucker frowned, his eyebrows knitting together and nose scrunching up. “Like what those amoeba things do?”

Wash gave an exasperated sigh and shook his head. “No, that’s asexual reproduction. I’m an asexual person. I’m one hundred percent human. As far as I know.”

Tucker gave a quick nod. “Okay so, like… If you like someone, you want to date them, but not fuck ‘em?”

“Yes, you’re just repeating yourself at this point.”

He groaned. “Shut the fuck up man, this is new to me. I’m just trying to comprehend this.”

With a laugh, Wash shoved Tucker’s shoulder. “I’m just pulling your leg.”

“You fuck!” Tucker screeched, shoving Wash back, laughing along.

Flicking Tucker’s forehead, Wash smiled at him. “I didn’t think it’d take you that long to actually process that.”

“Oh, it is so on!” He got up on his knees and grabbed Wash by the shoulders, tackling him to the floor. Pinning Wash’s arms to the wood paneling of the treehouse, smirking down at him. “That’s what you get for being a dick.”

What Tucker failed to remember was that Wash was more built than he seemed at first glance. He easily flipped the two of them, leaving Tucker pinned beneath him. “Do you want to continue that thought, Lavernius?”

Tucker looked up at him with wide eyes, his brain going on autopilot. Pushing his back up off the floor of the treehouse, he closed his eyes and pressed his lips against Wash’s.

While Tucker’s eyes were shut tightly, Wash’s eyes went so wide he could’ve sworn they almost popped out of his head.

Without saying a word, Tucker scrambled out from underneath Wash, scurrying down the ladder and running as fast as he could. He didn’t know where he was running to, but he had to get there now.

Wash sat motionless on the rough wood floor, eyes wide and lips tingling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Casually updates this almost six months late... But there will hopefully be more to come soon!


End file.
